Envenomed Petals
by Nightmare Prince
Summary: For Scorpius Malfoy, the halfblood son of Draco and Hermione, there has only ever been one girl to truly capture his heart. Lily Luna Potter, his best friend's sister . . . [A Five-Part Anachronological Series depicting moments in the life of Scorpius and Lily]
1. Thinking Out Loud

**Thinking Out Loud**

-III-

A floating sea of candles light the Great Hall, their fluttering flames twinkling like stars against the dark backdrop of the enchanted ceiling, which was black save for the light of a faux moon. The winter-themed decor glints like precious stones; ice-statues sparkling as if cut from diamond and glass furniture glimmering crystalline in the dim light.

The first snowflakes are falling, soft and powdery, but they do not reach the dancers below – instead, they're blinking from existence seconds before touching the elaborate hairdos of the female graduates. Too much time had been put in by the girls – and the boys, not that they would admit it – for anything short of an apocalypse to ruin their attire, make-up or hair.

Despite the serenity, there's a light sheen of sweat breaking across his brow whilst he sips at his punch, pale face blanched to an almost alabaster complexion. Tonight is rather important after all, and he's never been one to hold up under the pressure, as the small mountain of empty vials –previously filled with Calming Draught – under his bed could testify too.

"Mate, you look like you're preparing for war," chuckles Albus with a broad grin on his face, coming up beside him. Scorpius fights the urge to smack his best-mate upside the head, not because of any sentimental feelings, but rather because he's quite terrified of the girl on Albus' arm.

His sister, Cassiopeia, may have inherited the Malfoy colouring of platinum and porcelain, but there's no denying that she has inherited her hexing ability from their mother. Scorpius had learned pretty early on to not raise any complaints about her interest in Albus – not after the first few Stinging Hexes had been cast on his boxers at any rate.

He winces at the painful memory, before casting a baleful glare at his best friend and his sister.

"What if she doesn't show?" he asks, somewhat mournfully, his glare intensifying as Cassiopeia rolls her eyes and Albus looks as though he's about to burst out laughing.

"You've been with Lily for how many years, Scorpius?" retorts Cass, quirking an eyebrow at him, an amused look dancing across her delicate features.

"One," he mutters under his breath, flushing as Albus fails to stifle a giggle.

They just didn't seem to understand his predicament.

"But what if she doesn't come tonight!" he declares emphatically, "I mean, maybe she finally grew out of the phase of wanting to date her brother's best-mate."

"Look, Scor," sighs Cassiopeia, her expression reminding him eerily of their mother, "I know you've been crossing your fingers and hoping that the best friend's brother stage is all that's keeping me and Albus together because you think it's weird for your sister to be sleeping with your best-mate."

"You're sleeping together!" he exclaims, whirling on Albus with, who at least has the decency to look guilty. Running a hand through his dishevelled hair, the traitorous sibling-defiler opens his mouth to respond just as he clenches his fist, but both of them are interrupted by Cassiopeia's sharp tone.

"Would you two stop behaving like such cavemen? Albus, don't you dare say anything – I'm trying to make my idiot brother see reason. Scorpius, if you get any redder, people will think you're a Weasley. Besides, I think you should be more worried about your own, non-existent sex-life rather than my healthy one."

Both boys staring at her, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, she continues, waving her hand to shush Scorpius when he tries to mumble an adequate response.

Merlin have mercy, his baby sister may be half-Granger, but there's no doubt that she's a Black to the bone.

"My point, Scorpius," she continues, and he fixes his full attention on her in the hopes that she won't realise that he's already missed half her soliloquy, "Is that Lily is not going out with you because you're Albus' best-mate, no more than I'm seeing Albus because of your bromance with each other. I mean, that may have been what prompted us into giving either of you buffoons the time of day–"

"Hey!" protests Al, a wounded expression marring his features.

"Shut up, love," she says, though there's a fondness in her voice that Scorpius just can't miss.

"As I was saying, Lily is head over heels for you, she hasn't been snogging your ugly mug for the last year because she's in a _phase_." Cassiopeia emphasises the last word, and Scorpius doesn't miss the fact that Albus' arm has found its way around her waist, or that they're constantly exchanging glances so smouldering and yet steeped with adoration.

"You think so?" he asks finally, peering at her hopefully and hoping that she isn't lying to him.

"She knows so," says a quiet voice behind him. All in the same breath, his blood runs cold and his heart beats faster, but he turns anyway.

She's smiling at him in a tentative manner; absolutely gorgeous in a dress of red-silk, the bodice hugging her every curve and the skirt falling in a flowing cascade. His mouth goes dry and he tries to reply but no sound comes out. Desperately, he looks over his shoulder for assistance and sees that Albus and Cassiopeia have disappeared onto the dancefloor, leaving him to hold his own against a girl who's been making improvements to the patented Bat-Bogey Hex.

"How long have you . . ." he manages to squeak, biting his lip as he sees the slivers of doubt creep into her coppery eyes.

"Long enough," she replies softly, "Do you really think I'm only your girlfriend because of Albus being your friend?" He winces at her words, the hurt in them wounding him more than any curse could and his eyes dart around the room in an attempt to find an escape route. Sadly for him, his roommates are all with their dates, dancing across the Great Hall, oblivious to his discomfort.

Finally – only after she clears her throat in an attempt to coax a response from him – does he speak, deciding that perhaps it's best for him to be honest with her about all that he feels. If what Cassiopeia said is true (and his sister has never been wrong about anything advice related in her life) then perhaps the truth is what will work best for them.

"Walk with me?" He holds out a hand, smiling when she accepts it and follows him from the Great Hall, not questioning his need to be alone – it's one of the things he's always liked about her. She understands his desire for solitude and that he's a private person. Through their entire relationship, she's never questioned his choices . . . and that's something he cherishes, something that he's terrified of losing.

He finds himself leading her outside, to a bench just outside the Entrance Hall, shrouded by magically-grown rose bushes. The leaves are tinged with frost, the thorns and stems like living silver, but it was the flowers themselves that held the true beauty. Pale blue petals flutter in the chill breeze as he takes a seat, before drawing her down beside him, flicking his wand and casting a Warming Charm on them.

"So?" she presses, the hurt still evident in her voice.

"Are you? Going out with me because of the _forbiddeness _of our relationship? Because Cass says that's what first attracted her to Albus and is that what caused you to become interested in me?" he rambles, trailing off as she reaches up to cup his cheek with her hand. She shakes her head, smiling wanly as she replies:

"There is a lot more to the story of my brother and your sister than they let on, but that's not what's important now. What's important is us and I'm not with you because of some stupid phase as you seem to have gotten into your thick head."

"When I first met you, you were just my brother's friend who'd come over to our house in the holidays, make me laugh and blush all the time, and irritate me to death. Then you were the guy who, like Albus, James and Teddy, tried to make sure I never had a boyfriend until I was thirty. And I loved that because it was so ironic that the only boy I wanted was the one to blind to see it. And then, you became the boy who'd help me with my homework in the library and tell me jokes when I was down. Somewhere, Scorpius, between all our laughs, long late-night talks, stupid little fights and lame jokes, I fell in love."

"You what?" he whispers, heart nearly ceasing to beat when her words sink in.

"I fell in love with you, Scorpius Malfoy, and I haven't fallen out just yet."

So he kisses her, pressing his lips to hers as tenderly as he can, threading his fingers through her hair as she in turn parts her lips to grant his tongue access. It's like fireworks have been set off in his mind, fountains of multi-coloured sparks filling the air around them as she climbs onto his lap, never breaking the kiss as she straddles him, throwing back her head as he begins tracing his lips down to her throat.

"I'm an idiot, aren't I?" her murmurs, before fixing his mouth to a spot just above her collarbone.

"You're my idiot," she corrects him, whimpering as he nips at her skin, sinking his teeth in – lightly enough so that it's just the barest hint of a sting – to mark her as his own.

"I love you, Lily," he says for the first time in their two years of dating.

"I love you," he repeats, feeling her breath ghost across his cheeks as she leans in to peck him, bruised lips brushing across the faint stubble and nipping at his earlobe.

"I love you," she laughs giddily, and before even he knows what he's doing he he's on his feet, twirling her through the air till they both reach the shores of the Black Lake, frozen over from the cold. He looks at her, reaching out a hand and asking:

"Care to dance, Miss. Potter?"

"Here?"

"Where else?"

So they dance, his hand upon her waist and hers upon his shoulders, stepping slowly and in tune to the rhythm of their own hearts, her skirts flaring, both crowned in snow. Every few minutes his head descends so that their lips brush, soft kisses exchanged beneath the moonlight as they sway till their feet are sore and their vision blurry.

Tiredly, they walk to the castle hand-in-hand, stopping in the Entrance Hall to see that the Graduation Ball had already long since come to an end, and that not even the hardest partiers were still around.

"I guess this is goodbye for the next two years," says Lily, a frown crossing her face.

"I'm not going to be that far away, Lily," he replies with a smile, "And you'll be seeing me at every Hogsmeade weekend – and my dad is on the Board of Governors, which means I get a free pass to come watch every one of your Quidditch games."

"You have it all figured out, don't you?" she giggles, her body pressing against his as she shivers in the frigid air, stifling a yawn by pressing her mouth against his chest and obviously hoping he wouldn't hear.

He did, and it was with a smile that he kisses her on her brow and murmurs:

"You should go to bed, catch some sleep and enjoy your last full day of term tomorrow."

"Only if you stay with me tonight," she blurts out, cheeks flaming as he stares at her, dumbstruck.

"Get your head out of the gutter," Lily adds, "I mean, I just want to feel what it's like to wake up in your arms, you know."

He's touched by her words, soft and gentle, thawing his ice just a little as he takes her hand and quietly leads her down the staircase to the dungeons. Soon enough, they're in his Common Room, her shivering against him at the unnatural cold that came with being beneath the Black Lake.

"How do you sleep in this place?" she stammers through chattering teeth.

"You get used to it," he all but laughs, lifting her into his arms and ignoring her protests as he carries her to his room, nearly tumbling down the stairs thrice as he missteps in exhaustion.

The dorm is silent for the most part, save for the deep breathing of his roommates and best friends. There's another sound echoing through the room, a muffled moaning that has him eyeing the beds around him quite suspiciously. Xavier has his curtains drawn, but there's no doubt in Scorpius' mind that the skinny boy has Katherine with him. It couldn't be him though, nor could it be Delphin and Rose, as both couples were well versed in the uses of Silencing Charms.

That leaves only one suspect.

Glaring at Albus' bed and ignoring Lily's hushed protests, he marches across the room and is about to fling open the curtains when Lily catches his wrist.

"Leave them be, Scorpius," she sighs tiredly, "You can yell at them in the morning."

Nodding at her, he turns away and leads her to his section of the dormitory.

"You can change in there," he gestures to the nearby bathroom and hands her a pair of flannel pyjama pants and one of his old T-shirts. Nodding, she does as he says, returning a few minutes later and slipping in beneath the sheets, huddling against him and then gasping.

"Scorpius," she exclaims, "How in Merlin's name can you not freeze to death in this place if you're sleeping in your boxers?"

"The cold's never bothered me anyway," he mutters into his pillow, earning him a slap on the back as she giggles, falling asleep in his arms before she can ask another question.

* * *

**Thank you for reading and please do leave me a review ;)**

**Prompts - Candlelight, Rhythm, Goodbye, Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran **


	2. I'm Yours

**Envenomed Petals**

_**-IV-**_

_**I'm Yours**_

He swallows, a sheen of sweat breaking out across his brow, and he gnaws at his lip, shuffling ever so slightly as he feels every pair of eyes in the garden boring into him. Paler than he has ever been in his life, he looks to his best mate for some sort of reassurance, and then fights the urge to scowl as he catches sight of Albus making goo-goo eyes at Cassiopeia. His sister is sitting in the front row, a matching look of love upon her face as she fingers the white-gold band upon her ring finger, set with a single emerald.

The pair had been married for a year now, despite Scorpius' fervent protests that his sister is to young to have gotten married at the tender age of twenty, and it amazes him to see them both still look so absolutely smitten by each other. He's come to regret his words, now that it is his turn to await his bride at the altar, who has incidentally just turned twenty a few months ago.

The irony is not lost on him.

His mother is dabbing at her eyes, the first streaks of grey weaving their way through her brunette curls, and even his father looks a little watery-eyed as they stare up at him. Then slowly, a soft tune begins to lilt across the garden and he looks up, throat growing dry as he catches sight of _her._

.

"_Scorpius, this isn't a date, knock her off her bloody broom," shrieks Cassiopeia, her platinum ringlets streaming out behind her as she whips through the air, Quaffle tucked into the crook of her elbow. A smirk spreads across her face as she changes direction, and begins hurtling for the ground like a bullet, the two Chasers on her tail following in hot pursuit. _

_At the last second, she pulls up, her hearty snicker drowned out by the resounding jeers of the House of Blue and Bronze as their Chasers smash into the grass, unable to stop their rapid descent with the same precision that his sister had been able to. _

_For all their hype, Ravenclaws really did lack common sense, muses Scorpius as his gaze moves from his sister to his best mate, an emerald blur against the pale-blue sky. Swinging his arm with all his might, he slammed an incoming Bludger into the sky, cringing at the dull crack that came when it hit the Ravenclaw Seeker in the chest, knocking the redhead off her broom. _

_Had it been the Ravenclaw's usual Seeker, instead of Lily, who was one of their Chasers, Scorpius is certain that there wouldn't have been such a severe pang in his chest as she plummets to the ground, broomstick falling beside her. Quidditch is a violent game, and whilst the Slytherin team are known for playing dirtier than most, he is quite opposed at having to knock his girlfriend off her StarChaser._

_His mouth hangs agape as she spins in mid-fall, grasping for her broom and mounting it mere feet above the ground. _

"_You'll have to do better than that, Malfoy," she calls, hurtling past him, though he didn't miss the way she clutches at her stomach . . . and he hopes that she didn't miss the ocean of guilt filling his eyes._

.

Lily Luna Potter is absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful. Her dress is pure and white, the bodice tight and the skirts flowing, and sewn with dozens of tiny diamonds, each glinting in the sun. Her hair is teased into an elaborate bun, a few crimson strands escaping in an artful manner, and she's adorned with her family bridal jewels, the elegant gold and ruby necklace, earrings and bracelet that had been worn by Doreah Black, Lily Evans, and Ginevra Weasley.

.

_He hisses as he steps out of the shower, the cool air stinging at his body as he hurries towards his locker, eager to change now that the grime of the Quidditch Field has been washed from his body. No sooner has he yanked on his jeans, does the door slam open, causing him to whirl, eyes widening at the sight. _

_A low growl escapes his throat, and Albus offers him a sheepish look, running a hand through his hair, but Cassiopeia matches his glare with one of her own. Had he not known any better, he would have instantly assumed that he was the one at fault, and not her. _

"_Could you kindly excuse us, dear brother," she snips, "I need to use the showers."_

"_If you need to use the showers, why is he here?" He gestures at his best-mate, who had the gall to look offended. While Scorpius may have only recently become aware that Albus and Cassiopeia were shagging, at their Graduation Ball several days before the Quidditch Finals, it didn't mean that he enjoyed seeing them together in that way. _

_And by all means, he was sure that had be not growled at the sight of them tearing each other's Quidditch robes off as they entered the locker-room, he would have inadvertently seen more of his sister and his best-mate than he ever needed to. _

"_You know how Mum is always going on about climate change and what not?" she asks, causing a look of confusion to fall across his face as he buttons his shirt, wondering what she's getting at. _

"_Yeah?"_

"_Well, Al and I are doing our bit by showering together to conserve water, now get out before I hex you so hard that Lily will need a sperm donor to have children."_

_Her hand travels to her belt, where she keeps her wand sheathed, and he didn't need telling twice as he scurries from the changing room whilst making a mental note to jinx Albus' bed as soon as he gets back to the dormitories. _

_As the door slams shut behind him, he couldn't resist trying to get in the last word._

"_That isn't what Mum meant!" he hollers._

_Then he turns, and his eyes widen for the second time, because he finds himself face-to-face with another Potter, one who has no qualms with punching him in the gut as hard as she could. _

"_That's for the Bludger, love," she teases, as he gasps, sure that he'll have a bruise across his stomach the next morning. "Now come on, why don't you sneak me into the Slytherin victory celebration?"_

_._

She walks with a regal beauty, and every head turns to watch her approach him, her arm linked with that of her father's. Harry Potter has tears in his eyes, his chest rising and falling as he walks his only daughter down the aisle, and the first sniffles are heard from the front row.

Hermione Malfoy and Ginny Potter are both dabbing at their eyes, tears streaming down their faces as they watch the wedding, but it is the gigantic man in the reinforced chair who's blubbering the most.

Shaking his head at Hagrid, he reaches out a hand to take his bride's as she arrives at the altar, and before he could do anything more than blink, her lips are pressed to his.

"I believe that comes after the ceremony, Ms. Potter," he whispers when they finally break apart, and she giggles.

"Why wait?" she asks, taking a step back and raising an eyebrow at the officiate when the elderly man cleared his throat, seemingly in a hurry to pronounce them man and wife.

.

_He lies back on the grass, his head cradled in his hands, his eyes half-closed from the light of the late afternoon sun. She's beside him, using his chest as a pillow, and he draws little circles across her back as they laze. The picnic basket is already empty, and their broomsticks lie abandoned beside the crumbs, both of them content to spend as much time together as possible. _

"_How's work?" she asks after a time, and he can feel her smile, even though he can't see it. _

"_Boring," he replies, "Dad's determined to retire in a few years and hand the reins over to me, though I've been insisting that he still has a good twenty or so years left in him before he's old enough to step down."_

"_How's that working out?" she laughs._

"_Not well, I think I'm going to need to complain to Mum about him again," he sighs, because whilst it is true that Draco Malfoy ruled Malfoy Holdings, and had a lot of sway throughout the Wizarding World, it is also true that within the four walls of Malfoy Manor, he is ruled by Hermione. _

"_How's school? You ready to start seventh year?" he asks her, eager to change the subject away from him. _

"_Ready as I'll ever be," she replies, "I'm going to miss you though."_

"_Hey," he points out, tilting her head up with his hand and pressing a kiss to her brow, "All I have to do is connect my fireplace to the one in Teddy's office, and hey presto, I can come around to visit all the time."_

"_Till McGonagall finds out and writes your mother, and to Victoire. I'll have to make sure I'm there when the Howlers arrive."_

"_Pssst," he waves her off, "You scream louder than any Howler, and I haven't gone deaf yet."_

"_Git!" she exclaims, and slaps his chest._

"_Your git," he murmurs._

"_Don't you forget it."_

_._

"Do you, Lily Luna Potter, take this man, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"

"I do."

_._

"_This is a cheesy movie," he complains as she settles down against him, placing a bowl of popcorn before them, and uncorking two bottles of Butterbeer with her wand. An empty pizza box lay discarded to the side, both of them savouring in the joys of being completely alone in Scorpius' new apartment. _

"_It's a romantic movie," she insists, pouting as she hit play. _

"_When I suggested to Dad the benefits about adapting Muggle technology to function in magical homes, watching Titanic with you was not the goal I had in mind," he says._

"_Shut up, the movie's on," she shushes him, linking her fingers with his as the first scene began to play. _

_At around the halfway mark he's beginning to doze, blinking whenever he catches himself drifting to sleep, and then he breathes a sigh of relief as the screen fades to black, the word 'interval' flashing across it._

"_I swear, this is the last time I let you pick the movie," he grumbles._

"_I love you too, Scorpius," she whispers, as she lies in his arms. He brushes his lips across her throat and drags the blanket up to their chins, banishing the chills of the night as they snuggle together, eyes fixed to the television screen. _

_The movie is more boring than a Divination class, but he's content to be here with her. _

_._

"Do you, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, take this woman, Lily Luna Potter, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"

"I do."

Without further ado he grabs her, pulling her forwards, his lips crashing into hers, punctuated by the wolf-whistles of the crowd, her Uncle George leading the chorus.

"Then by the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now continue with what you are doing."

"As if we ever needed permission," she breathes, before parting her lips to let in his tongue.

_._

"_Cassie, Albus, you're early . . . and you brought balloons?" _

_Scorpius chuckles at Lily's confusion as she answers the door, grinning as Albus gives him a wink and waltzes into the room, holding a brightly wrapped present in one hand, and a green, helium filled balloon in the other. _

_There's a distinct letter "R" on the balloon, and Lily stares at it in confusion. _

"_Just deciding to have a bit of a party theme, Lillikins," Albus replies, as Cassiopeia hands Scorpius a bottle of red wine, one of the finer vintages from the Malfoy cellars. _

"_Dad wasn't very happy with me for requesting the good stuff," she laughs, giving him a one-armed hug as she holds onto her own balloon, a white one adorned with the letter "E"._

_The doorbell rang before he could respond, and Lily hurried to welcome their next guests. When she returned with an even more confused look on her face, Scorpius fought back the urge to guffaw in mirth at the sight of Alison, James, Hugo and Francesca all coming in behind her, carrying balloons of various colours, each with a different letter on the front. _

_A few hours later, the party is in full swing, and Scorpius gets to his feet, setting down his glass of wine and clapping to get everyone's attention. _

"_How about a group photo? Lily, could you get the camera from the kitchen?"_

_And by the time she returns, they're standing in a single row, their balloons facing her, and causing her to drop the camera, her hands flying to clasp across her mouth as her eyes darted over the newly formed words. _

_He's down on one knee with a little velvet box in his hand, and he's sweating bullets, because the balloons spell out just two words with a question mark at the end, and he's terrified that she'll give him the wrong answer._

'_Marry Me?'_

"_Yes."_

_._

He presses his lips to the back of her neck as he removes the pins from her hair, letting the scarlet strands fall across his face, the scent of strawberries and cream invading his nostrils. She giggles, and once he is done with her hair, his fingers travel to the neckline of her snowy-white dress.

"Are you sure?" he whispers, somewhat nervously. In all their years together, Lily and he have never really . . . done anything that involved removing their own clothing, let alone each other's.

"I'm yours, Scorpius," she replies softly, and if her voice quavers just a little, he pretends not to notice. "And I'm ready for this. I've been ready for a long time."

"And you never thought to mention that earlier," he mutters, his fingers finding the zipper and beginning to slowly drag it down, baring her skin, bit by tantalising bit.

His breath catches in his chest as he sees the flash of emerald silk upon her back, and as the dress pools around her ankles and he takes in the sight of the deep green knickers, he feels his jaw drop.

There, right across his wife's bottom, written in silver cursive across the silk is but one word . . .

_Malfoy_

"I told you, Scor," she laughs as she looks over her shoulder, her cheeks tinged pink, "I'm yours."

Her laughter is cut short seconds later as his lips crashed into hers and they tumble back into the four-poster bed.


	3. Animals

**Envenomed Petals**

**Animals**

_**-II-**_

"Please, Scorpius," she insists, batting her coppery-hazel eyes and sticking out her lower lip in a flawless pout. "For me?"

He groans, running a hand through his hair, and stares at the vile, rat-like creature sitting on his girlfriend's shoulder. The rodent meets his gaze, an expression of utmost distaste in its beady little eyes, as it sticks out a tiny, pink tongue, and begins licking at its snowy-white coat.

"Can't you leave him with one of your, I don't know, twelve dozen cousins?" he asks, hoping that this last ditch effort will save him from having to care for the little devil. He isn't really sure when, or how, his girlfriend of one year had gotten her hands on a pet ferret, but he does know that for some reason that he can't fathom, the little bugger doesn't seem to like him at all.

"They're all busy," points out Lily, her tone making it perfectly clear that he should already know this. "Victoire just gave birth, Dominique's going back to Romania in a few days, Louis is allergic, Fred is on his honeymoon, Roxanne hates animals, Molly's in her second trimester, Lucy's still in America, and Rose and Hugo are in Hawaii because Aunt Lavender insisted on needing some tropical sun."

"Please tell me how you're able to keep all of that straight in your head, and still need me to tutor you in potions?" he sighs, swallowing as the ferret fixes him with a deathly glare.

"It's not as if we get much studying done anyway," she says with a wink, getting to her feet and tickling her ferret's chin. "So will you please, please keep Dragon with you for the next two weeks while I'm in Spain?"

"Fine," he barks, scowling as she tosses a chocolate frog at him, before turning to pour them two glasses of pumpkin juice. His eyebrows furrow as the ferret stares at him, and then it winks. His jaw drops open, and he gawks, wondering if perhaps he's just imagined it . . . until Dragon winks again, this time sticking out its tongue for good measure.

Scorpius groans to himself, wondering if perhaps he would have been better off had he remained at the Manor, where it's safe, rather than letting himself be talked into visiting Lily before the Potters leave on a summer vacation to Barcelona.

"I knew I could count on you, Scor," she chirps, grinning ear-to-ear as she walks back to the couch, and leans in to press her lips to his cheek. He nods robotically, eyes fixed on the feral creature on her shoulder, especially as it seems to be smirking at him. "I'll just get his things, and you can take him with you when you go home today."

.o0o.

"I'm doing this for Lily," he mutters under his breath as he walks up his front lawn.

All in all, he feels rather miffed that he's somehow managed to splinch off a fingernail whilst Apparating home, especially since the bloody ferret and every one of the pet supplies made it through without so much as a scratch. Right hand smarting with pain, Scorpius leans forward till his nose is on the same level as the doorbell, and rings it by tilting his face against it.

"What are you laughing at?" he grumbles to Dragon, whose entire body is shivering with some sort of animalistic mirth within his travel cage. It's been less than an hour of having the ferret in his care, and he's already regretting giving in to Lily.

The door clicks open, and he nearly drops the supplies and cage in relief at the sight of his mother. He's sure that she'll be able to patch him up in no time flat, and that she can grow back his fingernail so fast that he'll end up wondering if it had been torn away in the first place.

Also, he's certain that his mum would be able to deal with Dragon.

"Merlin, Scorpius," exclaims Mum, hurriedly flicking her wand and levitating the many bags and boxes from his arms. "I thought you were going to see Lily off, not visit Magical Menagerie."

"Lily talked me into watching her pet ferret for her whilst she's away," he explains, dragging his feet as he walks to the table, and sets the cage down upon it. He's barely sat down before his mother's at his side, holding his bloody hand and scrutinizing the wound. For the first time that day, he simply relaxes and lets himself be fussed over, wincing slightly at the sting of Dittany and the sharp tug of a nail being re-grown.

"I really don't want to know," she says when he opens his mouth to tell her more about the ferret, and the splinching.

Scorpius is about to reply, when an ear-splitting shriek tears through the room, and both his head and his mother's whip around. His father is standing frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, skin blanching of colour, fingertips trembling as the Malfoy patriarch points at the cage.

"What is that?" he whispers, his voice cracking like glass.

"Oh no," murmurs Mum, getting to her feet and straightening her dress, before hurrying across the room to soothe his obviously traumatised father. He isn't really sure why his dad is behaving in such an extreme way – sure, Dragon isn't the ideal pet, and Scorpius himself would dearly love to stick the rodent in a sealed vault at Gringotts . . . but it's just a ferret, after all.

Scorpius watches bemused, the scene unfolding before him much too priceless to miss, a grin on his face as he strains to hear his parent's conversation, frowning slightly at the low sounds coming from the cage (they're almost like hysterical laughter, he thinks).

"Hermione, it's . . . it's . . . it's . . ." his father stammers, not ceasing in his pointing, looking paler than the marble mouldings on the wall.

"It's just a little ferret, Draco," comforts Hermione, patting him on the back and slowly guiding him from the room, "Moody isn't her–" her voice trails off and they disappear down the passage, leaving Scorpius with the cackling (he's pretty sure that the little beast is taking pleasure in all the commotion it's causing) ferret. Still somewhat dumbfounded by the scene with his father, Scorpius picks up the cage, and levitates the supplies, before going upstairs to his room.

He's pretty sure that Dragon the ferret is pure evil, but he's doing this for Lily.

.o0o.

"Holy mother of Merlin," screams a feminine voice, "What the hell is going on in here?"

Scorpius shivers beneath the overturned couch, the ends blocked up with all the throw pillows he had been able to find. There's just a single crevice to see through, and he's awarded a perfect view of his father cowering beneath the coffee table.

"Oh thank Morgana," he praises, meeting his father's terrified eyes with an equal amount of fear in his own. "Cassiopeia's home."

He knows full well how the living room must look, from the overturned furniture to the scorch marks across the walls, the singed holes in the carpets, and most of all, the ferret sitting atop the mantel, using one of his grandmother's ornaments as a throne.

His father and he, loathe as he is to admit it, are no match for the foul creature that has taken over their home during his mother's absence. Ever since he's let the beast into his home, Scorpius knows that it's been trying to do him in.

Not only has it eaten his homework, and gone about chewing holes in all his socks and underwear, but there's been more than one incident during the week in which he's woken in the middle of the night to find the little pest watching him, as a lion might glare at a gazelle.

He would be lying if he didn't think it to be . . . unsettling.

Scorpius' arms are covered in scratches and bites, and so is his father's face.

"Cassie!" yelps Dad, "Get rid of that little pest on the mantle! It's been using my trophy cups as a bath!"

Scorpius nods reassuringly at his sister as she enters his field of vision, looking incredulous as she surveys the damage, and then she bursts out laughing, her hands clutching at her sides, tears spilling from her eyes.

"Did you two really let yourselves get owned by a ferret?" she guffaws at him, flicking her wand at hitting Dragon with a non-verbal stunning spell. The ferret crumpled, falling from the mantle and landing on the floor with a dull thud, but it's evident by the slowly moving chest that it's still alive.

"Good girl," pronounces Draco, gingerly sticking his head out from under the coffee table, and warily eyeing the stunned ferret. "Now kill it with fire."

.o0o.

Scorpius groans as he stumbles through the Floo, causing every eye in the room to turn in his direction. Albus is lounging on the couch, a broad grin on his face, and there's no doubt in Scorpius' mind that Cassiopeia's already told him every humiliating detail about the ferret's reign of terror.

His eye twitches as he notices Aunt Ginny hiding the urge to smile, and James openly smothering his laughter with his hands, before he lets his glare fall on Lily. She's looking at him with a cheekily raised eyebrow and a saucy smile, and before he can say anything, she asks:

"Did Dragon behave himself?"

Scorpius feels his cheek spasm, and he's pretty sure a vein's just popped in his temple, but he simply shakes his head and presses the cage into his girlfriend's hands before turning and stepping into the fireplace.

"That animal is the devil," he mutters, tossing a handful of Floo powder to his feet, his eye still twitching as the ferret winks at him.

The last thing Scorpius is aware off before he's been yanked through the Floo Network, is Uncle Harry popping his head in from the kitchen, roguish smirk in place, and commenting:

"Wow, Lily-Petal, that boy really is serious about you."

"I am," mutters Scorpius as he stomps out of his living-room fireplace, noticing his father clamber in as soon as he's vacated it, grumbling about Potters, and looking as though he's about to give Uncle Harry a good telling off.

"You just make it really difficult for me," he concludes, before falling face first onto the couch, asleep before his head had even hit the cushions.

* * *

_**Written for Round 3 of the OTP Knock-Out Battle Competition. OTP: Scorpius/Lily**_

_**Written for the Things I Would Do For You Competition: Tolerate your animal even though I really don't like it.**_

_**A/N: So I'm taking about a three week break from fanfiction, because my Semester Exams are upon me, and I need to study and pass them. Other than this One-Shot, which I've written solely to meet the competition deadlines, I'll only be posting one more one-shot (my entry for this round of the Quidditch League, before going onto a full hiatus from writing till exams are done with. **_

_**I'll still be available by PM, and will probably pop in now and then on the forums, but for any readers following my MultiChapters, I sincerely apologise for the delay. **_


	4. Let It Go

**Envenomed Petals**

_**Let It Go**_

_**-I-**_

A soft smile crosses her lips as she dusts the soot off her jeans before stepping out of the fireplace, and she stifles a yawn. She's not really accustomed to waking this early, but if it's to help her boyfriend then she doesn't really mind. Of course, any excuse to not have to go to a Chudley Cannons match with the rest of her family is a plus, because as much as she might love her Uncle Ron, and adore the sport, she just isn't a fan of self-harm.

It's a little known fact, of course, that for a Quidditch lover, there's no greater torture that watching the Canons play, no matter what her Uncle Ron claims.

"Thanks for coming, Lily," says Hermione, rising from the couch with a bright, if slightly haggard, smile on her face.

"Thank you for giving me an excuse to not sit through six hours of the Cannons getting thrashed to the bottom of the League, Aunt Hermione."

Over the years she's come to understand that the only reason Aunt Hermione even goes to these Quidditch matches is because someone has to keep Uncle Draco in line. Not that he's a Cannons supporter, mind you, it just always seems as though he enjoys goading Uncle Ron a bit too much for comfort.

"You know how it is, honey." Hermione rolls her eyes. "Draco and Ron spend the match bickering, and Harry gets stuck in the middle. I swear, Ginny, Lavender, and I are more like their referees than their wives when the broomsticks come out."

"Cass and I feel the same way whenever the boys decide to play," she laughs in response, "They just don't like admitting we're much better fliers than they are."

"Speak for yourself," chuckles Hermione, gathering her coat and bag and making for the fireplace. "I haven't gotten on a broom since Hogwarts, and that was over twenty years ago."

Still chuckling, the older woman is about to toss a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace when she pauses, a more serious look falling over her face as she glances over her shoulder. "If you'd be a dear, could you talk to Cass? She says she's got her monthly, and that's why she can't join us at the match, but I could swear she just had it two weeks ago. I don't really want to pry . . . but you girls are at that age where you're more comfortable with each other than with your aging mothers."

"You're just like Mum, Aunt Hermione," she replies, "You two will never be old. And sure, I'll talk to her."

"Tell that to my grey hair," says Hermione with a smile, stepping into the fireplace and waving as she Floos to Grimmauld.

Lily sighs in relief. As much as she loves her honorary aunt, it's a lot more uncomfortable for her to be as candid as she used to be now that she's seeing Scorpius. Romance always makes things uncomfortable with the parents, especially the ones that don't want to accept that their kids are growing up.

Deciding to check on Cassiopeia and at least make an attempt at finding out what was wrong – she had a sneaking suspicion, one that's enforced by the knowledge that Albus isn't at the match either – but she hopes she's wrong, if only to spare her eyes the mental torture.

Unlike her chaste romance with Scorpius, Albus and Cassiopeia seem to be a much more _physical_ couple, and she wonders how they've kept that aspect hidden from her boyfriend for so long. Knowing Scor, he's bound to flip his lid when he finds out his best friend not only snogs his sister, but also shags her nine ways to Sunday.

Not that Cassiopeia complains mind you – it's gotten to the point where Lily's been forced to outlaw any form of girl-talk in her social circle, mostly because for some reason, all her friend's are involved with her brothers or cousins.

Clenching her teeth, she knocks, and when all she hears is a muffled groan, she quietly pushes open the door.

She slams it shut seconds later, her eyes burning hotter than her cheeks as she clutches at her chest, and she fights down the urge to scream. Scorpius is just three bedrooms away, horribly unwell, and it would never do to disturb him.

Albus . . . she's just seen more of her brother than she's ever wanted too, and she wishes she'd just screamed through the door rather than taking the chance of walking in. Just as she's about to walk away and pretend like it's never happened, the door swings opened, and an annoyed looking Cassiopeia sticks her head into the passage.

"What?" she snaps, glaring, and Lily tries to ignore the mussed-up sex hair, and the hickeys disappearing down the neckline of her dressing gown.

"Your mother asked me to check why you weren't going," she answers hurriedly, "I didn't think you'd really be doing _that_ so early. Albus can't have been here for more than an hour."

"Honestly, Mum worries too much," sighs Cass, still looking annoyed, "Patient Zero is in his room, so could you go bother my brother whilst I do yours?"

"Did not need to know that, Cassie," she yelps.

"You already saw my knickers in his mouth." Cassiopeia rolled her eyes, "Don't look at me like that. He's a screamer, and Merlin knows my Silencing Charms are too weak to keep his voice down. Anyway, brother, down the hall, go."

The door slams in her face, and she feels traumatised, shuddering as she makes her way to Scorpius' room.

"No, Lily, of course we understand your friends are off limits," she mutters under her breath, thinking sourly of the conversation she had with her brothers when Alison and Cassiopeia first expressed interest in them. Sighing, and realising that she's going to have to put stinging jinxes on their boxers again, she pushes open Scor's bedroom door.

Unlike the rest of them, Scor hates taking his yearly potions, and whilst Aunt Hermione often makes him take them in front of her . . . she's been a little lax this year. So, understandably, her idiot boyfriend had simply poured them down the drain, and promptly caught a bug.

"Lily," he exclaims, looking up in surprise and yanking the sheets up to his throat. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't your mother tell you she asked me to play Healer?" Inwardly, she cringes at the sight of him, because it pains her to see him so subdued. A low groan escapes his lips, and he clutches at his stomach, a grimace etching itself across his face. Setting her handbag on his bedside table, she perches on the edge of the bed.

"She probably thought it would be a nice surprise," mutters Scorpius, his voice somewhat thick, and she nods, her eyes somehow missing the way he keeps shifting uncomfortably.

Noticing the gleam of sweat on his cheeks and forehead, she extends her hand to check his temperature, eyes widening as her cool skin comes into contact with his burning flesh. She's surprised that he's not in St. Mungo's with a fever this high, but then again, Aunt Hermione must know what she's doing.

"You're burning up," she says, "I think you need to get rid of that blanket."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Nonsense," she overrides him, letting generations of matronly instinct manifest within her, and with the same formidable nature she's witnessed in Nana Molly, and Mum, she yanks off the blanket.

Scorpius howls, and her eyes widen like saucers. She knows she needs to look away . . . but her eyes are almost glued to her boyfriend's body. The lithe muscles from years of Quidditch, the slender trail of blond hair running from his navel to his groin. He scrabbles, grabbing a pillow and pressing it between his legs, though not before she's gotten a good eyeful, and glares at her.

"You're naked," Lily mutters, still not able to look away.

"No, my clothes just turned invisible," snaps Scorpius, his tone dry and biting.

Ignoring his sass, she finally realises that she should give him his privacy, and clearing her throat she turns away, closing her eyes. She hears him rolling out of bed, followed by the sound of a closet being pulled open, and she opens her eyes, not turning around just yet.

And because Salazar, Rowena, Helga, and Godric all hate her, she's staring into a mirror, and the first thing she sees is her boyfriend's surprisingly well-shaped butt. Damn, but she could probably stare at it all day.

Shaking herself, and hurriedly shutting her eyes again, she calls, "Are you decent?"

"Almost," grumbles Scorpius, and she almost wants to slap herself, because she can hear how weak he is in his voice alone as he moves around the room. A few minutes later, he tells her she can turn around again, and she swallows, an apologetic look on her face as she returns to her perch on the side of the bed.

"I'm sorry about that," she whispers, the first shreds of mortification beginning to creep into her as the shock begins to dissipate. His cheeks are red as he looks up at from the bed, wearing a loose pair of shorts and a vest.

"It's fine," he mumbles, "I just think your bedside manner could use some work."

She rolls her eyes, thankful that he's joking about the incident, because she knows that had their roles been reversed, she'd have jinxed him out the door. She climbs into his bed and opens her handbag, extricating the flask of her mother's famous chicken soup and setting it on the bedside table.

Filling the plastic serving cup with it, she holds it to his lips, and as he drinks, she finally plucks up her courage to ask.

"What in Merlin's name possessed you to lie around in the nude, though?" she asks, "Is your bed safe for me to be sitting on, or where you getting in touch with yourself?"

"I was feeling really hot," he begins, ignoring her teasing.

"Well, you are hot," she lets slip, blushing as he raises an eyebrow.

"My fever, Lily, not my looks," he corrects. "And I didn't know you were coming, so you know, I cooled off. Can we please just let this go?"

"You're an idiot," she laughs as she sets the empty cup aside, leaning in to kiss him before refilling.

"You really don't want to kiss me right now, Lilz," he says, "Your potions won't keep you that safe if your tongue gets covered in germs."

"I'll take that risk."

"The fever makes you feel like you're melting."

"Some people are worth melting for," she whispers, pressing her lips to his. "Who knows?" she adds, when she pulls away for air, "Maybe you'll get a chance to sneak a peek when I get sick."

(Six months later, Scorpius decides to spend a weekend with the Potters. When he inevitably, and accidently, walks into her in the shower . . . well, she's been making improvements to the Bat Bogey Hex for years, hasn't she?)


	5. You Raise Me Up

**Envenomed Petals**

**You Raise Me Up**

_**-V-**_

He waggles his fists in the air, drool running across his chin, and he fights to keep his eyes open as his mother rocks them both upon the chair. He doesn't want to sleep – it's still quite early – and all he wants is to go back to the living room and watch cartoons.

His mother rubs at his chin with a facecloth, and he glares at her when she begins to stroke the tufts of platinum-blond atop his head. It's relaxing, and he's already feeling the allure of sleep begin to creep into his bones despite his best wishes.

Then she begins to hum, and it's a gentle lullaby. Even if there are no words, he can't help but let his eyelids flutter shut as he drifts into the world of dreams.

.o0o.

He's terrified.

His father's toes are barely skimming the grass, but to him, it feels like they're up above the clouds. It doesn't matter that he's the one who's been nagging his parents to let him fly for the past few weeks – no, the only thing that matters now is that he gets his feet back safely on the ground.

A high-pitched squeal tears its way out of his throat, and he holds himself stiff as a board, seeing his entire all-too-short life flash before his eyes. His father's has one arm hooked around him, the other holding onto the broom, but that does little to slow the furious beating of his heart as they begin to rise up higher into the sky.

"Doe wanna fall," he mumbles, his voice lisping ever so slightly as his tongue slips through the gaps between his teeth.

"I'll never let you fall, Orion," says Daddy, and even though he's still terrified, he believes him.

When they finally reach the clouds, there's no denying that the view is like nothing he's ever seen.

.o0o.

"Grandpa Draco," he whines, flashing his trademark puppy-dog eyes. He extends his lower lip in a flawless Malfoy pout, and hops onto the armrest of the sofa.

"Ryan." Grandpa looks up from his paper, frowning at his expression before reaching over to tousle his hair. "What's the matter?"

"I want a dog, and Dad doesn't want to get me one."

He can see the gears turning in his grandfather's head, and he knows that the man is no fool. There's no denying that Grandpa can see right through his childish antics, but of course, like all grandparents, doesn't care.

It's something that Orion's learned over the years. It's his parents' job to raise him and be strict when need be, but it's his grandparents' job to spoil him rotten and deny him nothing.

Besides, Uncle Albus just bought Leo a new puppy . . . and he wants one too!

A few hours later, he's grinning happily with his arms wrapped around his new golden retriever, and burrowing his face into the silky, golden fur. Grandpa Draco looks at him, smiling, and he wonder if he'll be able to wrangle anything else out of the man before the week is done.

Then the fireplace roars to life and he looks up to see his father step into the room, dusting the soot of his trousers with a tired look on his face.

Dad shakes his head at the sight of the dog, and he holds up a hand to silence him before he can even begin pleading.

He pouts, holding onto the puppy and letting it nuzzle at his neck.

"Scorpius," says Grandpa Draco in a voice much sharper than he's known for. "Let my grandson have his dog, or I swear I shall buy him the dragon he's been asking for."

"But Dad!" protested Dad, and Orion giggled, knowing that the argument was already won. He'd get his puppy, and if he played his cards right, he'd get the dragon too.

"Don't make me get your mother," concludes Grandpa sternly, "You know that the only side she takes these days is her grandkids'."

.o0o.

"This is boring," he complains, tugging at his cap to try and shade his face from the burning sun. His father should know by now that he's inherited the famous Malfoy complexion, and that he, like everyone else in the both save for his Uncle Albus, is going to be burned to a crisp if they stay out in the sun much longer.

The boredom of this _bonding_ exercise doesn't help him in the slightest.

"Ryan's right," says Leo, pouting at Uncle Albus. "Why can't we just go buy fish from the store like normal people, Dad?"

Crossing his arms and abandoning his fishing rod, Orion turns to glare at his father, and Leo imitates him without a moment's notice. They've been sitting in this boat for nearly an hour and nothing's happened, so Merlin alone knows how long it will take for them to actually catch something.

"This is a great character building activity," scowls his father, running a hand through his sweaty, blond hair, and frowning down at him. "Your Grandpa Harry highly recommended it."

"I recall him actually telling us to never eat freshly caught fish cooked by your mother while living in a tent and hiding from Death Eaters," muses Uncle Albus, eliciting a smug look from Leo. Orion smirks at his father, waiting to see how he'll respond, when Uncle Albus goes on. "So, how about we swim back to shore and I'll Apparate to the nearest Burger King?"

He's about to agree when he notices the crestfallen look on his dad's face, and he presses his lips together. Biting his lip, he says, "You know what, maybe if I stay another half-hour, something will bite."

"Suit yourself," says Uncle Albus, stripping of his shirt and diving into the lake with a loud splash. A second later, Leo joins him, and the two Potters begin swimming to the shore. Watching them go, he ignores the growling of his stomach, and picks his rod back up, grinning at his father's broad smile.

Even later, when they get home and his mother has to spend the entire night treating both him and his father for what feels like third degree burns along their skin, he knows that it's worth it.

.o0o.

"Promise me that you're going to write at least once a week," says Mum, wiping away a tear as she clutches his shoulder.

"Mum, I–"

"And your father would be here, but he had to take Grandma Hermione to St. Mungo's after she fell and broke her hip climbing those horrible stairs."

"Yeah, I kn–"

"You look so much like your father on his first day, oh, you're going to be graduating in no time at all and, Merlin, my baby boy is all grown up."

"MUM! The train's leaving!"

.o0o.

"Gryffindor!"

The Hat falls silent after its proclamation, but he can already see Leo frowning at him from the Slytherin table. He can only imagine the shocked expression plastered across his face, but he really can't help it – especially since he's likely the first Malfoy in history to have been Sorted into the House of Lions.

Clenching his fists as he approaches the table, it only strikes him that they're cheering when he takes his seat. Overwhelmed, he turns his attention to his empty plate, only looking up when he feels someone nudge his shoulder.

"Hullo," says a tanned boy, whom he recognises as a first year like him. "I'm Jeremy Wood – guess we'll be rooming together for the next seven years."

"Orion Potter-Malfoy," he replies, eagerly shaking hands. He's quite glad to have made a friend, and it's a strange but welcome turn of events when Jeremy doesn't immediately ask about his Grandma Hermione and Grandpa Harry.

Sometimes, having war-heroes on both sides of his family tree is quite annoying, especially when everyone is more interested in getting to know about his relationship to them than getting to know him for who he is.

As if reading his mind, Jeremy says, "If you promise to never bring up Oliver and Katie Wood, or their Quidditch careers, then I'll never bring up your grandparents and the war."

"Deal," he agrees, grinning, just as a dark-skinned girl settles down on his other side. She looks vaguely familiar, and he thinks she might be a friend of the family, or perhaps a cousin by marriage, but it's only when she speaks that he makes the connection.

"Yes, my last name is Scamander. Yes, my grandmother's name is Luna. Yes, the best way to have your eyeballs ripped from their sockets is to ask me for her autograph."

Orion nods, and it's in that moment that an unlikely trio is formed, one that's soon made a sextuplet by the addition of his cousins, Leo Potter and Andrea Lupin, and a silent yet violent Ravenclaw by the name of Cecilia Pierce.

.o0o.

Odgen's Firewhisky. Oak-Matured Mead. Elderberry Wine.

He frowns as he digs through his parent's liquor cabinet, trying in vain to find what he's looking for. He knows it's in here somewhere, probably pushed near the back since it's not a drink parents in their late-thirties are known for indulging in.

Shoving aside a crystalline bottle filled with a shimmering purple liquid, he pauses to read the label – because he's sure he's never seen alcohol quite like this before. Written in flowing black script across the label are the words, _Nymph's Delight, _and right below the name is the slogan: _Never bring your heart to a witch fight, rather, bed them both with but a drop of Nymph's Delight._

Shuddering, he forces the bile back down his throat, and shoves the aphrodisiac back into place.

Finally, he feels a grin spread across his cheeks, and he extricates the bottle, taking care to not knock any of the others out of place. Still smiling, he makes his way back to his friends in the living room, thinking how lucky it is that his friend's are all free on the one night that his parent's are spending at the Manor.

"I drink to make other people more interesting," he announces, rolling his eyes at his friends. "It's a good theory since you all are such boring people."

"You haven't touched a drink in your life," supplies Leo with a snort, grinning quite wickedly with his girlfriend in his lap. Cecilia seems equally amused, her violet eyes sparkling with mirth, as Orion tries and fails to mask his blush.

Cheeks stained pink, he settles back into the armchair and, with a flick of his wand, makes the tequila pour itself into the assembled shot glasses.

"How about we play a drinking game?" says Jeremy, smirking. "Never have I ever?"

He shrugs in response, and even as the rest of the room agrees, he knows that if he doesn't want to answer, he'll simply lie. As if to quash his hopes, Jeremy produces a tiny vial and without hesitating, tips a drop into each shot glass.

"Veritaserum," he says, "To make sure we're all playing fair."

"Great," replies Orion, his voice laced with sarcasm as he knocks back the truth-potion laced shot and flicks his wand for the next round to be poured. "I'll go first." He screws up his nose, trying to think of the most outrageous thing he can come up with to open the game with, and finally, it comes to him. "Never have I ever had sex when there was someone else in the room."

His victorious smirk falls when both Leo and Cecilia drink, each wearing matching impassive expressions. Shrugging as though it's no big deal, Cecilia raises her eyebrow and says, "Remember when Leo spent the night with you boys in the Gryffindor dorms? Well, let's just say you dorks could sleep through a hippogriff giving birth."

"Moving on," interjects Keira with a shudder, "Never have I ever cheated on a test." Orion smiles as he downs his shot and refills the empty glasses, feeling the pleasant burn coursing down his throat, and he feels himself relax as the game plays on.

It's a little embarrassing, but all in good fun, even though he's certain that he's going to have to jinx Leo with everything he has once he's sufficiently sober. By the time the bottle's half-empty, it's become known that Leo and Cecilia have been an immensely risqué couple – going so far as to shag in Orion's bed the previous summer.

"Never have I ever fooled around with my significant other on a broomstick," slurs Jeremy, giggling hysterically as he leans back into Andrea Lupin, who simply laughs, her hair changing colours every minute.

Orion's rolling his eyes as, unsurprisingly, Leo and Cecilia bring their tequila to their lips when the shot glass falls out of Leo's hands. At first, he thinks it's just that his cousin is drunk . . . but then he notices the gleam of fear in his cousin's eyes.

"Never have I ever been this grounded in my life," says a quiet voice from behind him, and he feels a shard of ice sliver down his spine. Gooseflesh rising across his arms, his gut ties themselves into a knot and he swallows, and all it takes is a quick glance over his shoulder is all it takes to guarantee how royally screwed he is.

His mother stands in the fireplace with her hands on her hips, but he isn't sure if the flames are from the Floo . . . or if she's actually breathing fire.

.o0o.

"Harder," she murmurs into his ear, her nails leaving red lines down his back. "Merlin, Orion, that feels good." Her voice is sinful and wanton, and he moans as she licks at the shell of his ear.

He obliges, increasing the speed of his somewhat sloppy thrusts as he nips at her exposed throat, inhaling the rich smell of patchouli clinging to her hair. Her leg comes up to hook around his waist, and he feels his toes curl as she clenches around him.

"Gonna cu–" he gasps, only to be interrupted by his own cry of ecstasy as he finds his release, and in that brief moment he sees stars. Her moans echo in his ears, mingled with his cries, and he bites down involuntarily to leave a love-bite upon her throat.

He slumps forward, rolling to the side at the last moment to lie beside her rather than on her, and he sighs as she runs a finger down his spine.

"That was fun," says Keira Scamander, "If I'd known this felt so good, I wouldn't have held out on you so long."

Orion chuckles at her, tilting his head to capture her lips, when suddenly, he hears the door swing open. He freezes, yanking the sheets up to cover them both, but one look over his shoulder at his father's mortified face is enough to tell him that the damage has already been done.

He's just thankful that it's not his mother, because he may be of age, but that won't stop Lily Potter-Malfoy from grounding him at all.

Still, he's sure that there's going to be some form of punishment coming his way – this is his parent's room, after all.

.o0o.

He shivers, swallowing as he sees her walk down the aisle. She's absolutely breathtaking, the sleek ivory of her gown a stark contrast to her ebony skin. Her dreadlocks falls past her shoulders, and even though everyone they know has tried to get her to straighten her hair, she isn't having any of it – and he supports her all the way. He'll marry her bald if need be, because appearances have never truly been what kept them together – never. Her father, Lysander, strides at her side, but his attention soon shifts at the sounds of mild sobbing coming from the front row.

Turning, he sees his mother sobbing in into a lace handkerchief, with his father's arm around her shoulder. He smiles at her reassuringly, before turning his attention back to Keira, just as she reaches the base of the altar and begins climbing the stairs.

"You look beautiful," he whispers, taking her hand when her father offers it to him.

"Don't I always?" she teases, winking,

He isn't afraid to say that he daydreamed through most of the ceremony, but eventually, when the time came for him to say his vows, the first words to leave his mouth are,

"If a mother is her son's queen, then you, Keira, are my princess. . ."

.o0o.

Keira let out a shriek of pain, her nails gouging his wrist, and she clamped her eyes shut. He bit his lip, determined not to let his pain show – especially since her agony easily dwarfs his own.

He remembers his father's advice, and his mother's disturbing facts regarding the birth of a child, and he says, in what he hopes is his most comforting voice,

"I'm right here, Keira, we're almost there."

"WE?" she shrieks, gnashing her teeth together as she whips her head around to face him. "I don't see you shoving something the size of a melon out of something the size of a pea!"

"You're almost there," he amends, wincing as she digs her nails in a little deeper, "Just a little more till out baby girl is born."

"If she doesn't hurry, I swear I'm going to stick my hand in there and yank her out," barks Keira, her words punctuated by sharp gasps and the Healer's gentle words of encouragement.

When, two hours later, the sound of crying fills the air, Orion's first thought is that if he can be half as good a parent as his mother and father have been to him, then Calypso Hermione Potter-Malfoy is going to be the luckiest girl in the world.

* * *

**Word Count: 2972**

* * *

**.o0o.**

_Author's Note:_

_Written for Round 13 of the Third Season of the Quidditch League. Task: Write about anything. _

_This concludes the Envenomed Petals Saga of One-Shots. I know this chapter doesn't really have as much Scorily in it as the others, and focuses more on their son, but that was my intention – to show them as parent's._

_The thing is, parents are a child's entire worlds – but as the kids get older, they sought of lose importance in how people see the world. But, that doesn't mean they're not there, that they're not still guiding and helping, and I hope I managed to convey that in such a limited wordcount. _

_I plan to return to this eventually and add a few more vignettes, but the deadline is calling _

_Prompts: _

_(quote) 'Never bring your heart to a witch fight.' - Once Upon A Time  
\- (word) echo  
-(quote) 'I drink to make other people more interesting' - Ernest Hemingway_


End file.
